


His Prince Charming

by MitchSquad2k15



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Comedy, Fluff, M/M, Romance, happy birthday oikawa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 09:42:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4386989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MitchSquad2k15/pseuds/MitchSquad2k15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course, Oikawa Tooru deserved to be treated like a king, so on his birthday, Iwaizumi indulges him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Prince Charming

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday, Oikawa <3 For my lovely lil sis. Also Mitch. 
> 
> @snarlbehindasmile on tumblr. This is for you, buddy. --ThatCoFoGhostKing
> 
> ((This fic will be moved from this account to ThatCoFoGhostKing once that account gets made in a few days. Enjoy!))

“Iwa-chan!”

The shout echoes dully around the room.

“Iwa-chan!”

There is still no reply.

“Iwa-chan?”

Demanding becomes asking.

“Iwa-chan…”

Asking becomes frustrated muttering.

“Iwa-chan, I’m getting bored…”

            For a solid four hours, birthday boy Oikawa Tooru sits and calls out the name of his lifelong best friend. He’s getting fidgety with how long he’s been waiting in a damned tea party chair, built for little girls in the first grade, not handsome and charismatic high school volleyball captains. The setter itches at his hairline, as the red bandana he’s wearing as a blindfold is rubbing against his skin uncomfortably. He whines audibly and bounces his legs, which causes soft creaking noises from the ground beneath him. Iwaizumi told him to just be patient, and in a short time, he would come back and make it worthwhile. Well, four hours later, there is no Iwaizumi to sweep him off of his feet or award him with a puppy, which the ace promised for Valentine’s Day and never followed through with.

            He’s tempted to pull off his restraints of candy bracelets, but he’s already sucked at the sugar and discarded the yarn somewhere on the wooden floor of his living room. He groans and grumbles indistinct sentences, all following the similar structure and meaning of “stupid Iwa-chan must be sadistic or something, leaving me all vulnerable and impatient like this…” His teeth are chewing steadily on his lower lip out of boredom more so than habit. The gnawing speeds up when Oikawa hears a clock in his kitchen strike five, a little tune ringing out once, twice, thrice, four times, and finally a fifth. He’s anxious now. Is this all a joke to see how long poor old trusting Oikawa would wait for dumb and lying Iwaizumi? How cruel, the Seijou captain thinks, but he knows that his best friend wouldn’t do that, at least he hopes that’s the case; Iwaizumi can be a little mean sometimes.

            Oikawa begins to think he should take a nap or sing a song or give up and go find his vice captain. He stands to pace, grunting when his bad knee nudges the corner of his coffee table. Attempting to roll his eyes through the fabric over them, he winces at the terrible failure of the gesture and instead turns and changes direction to walk around somewhere with less obstructive furniture. His bare feet pad back and forth with little taps. His jeans are shuffling with each step. His collision with a wall makes a loud bang. His hand makes a slapping noise as he tries to brace the rest of his body. His mouth whimpers as he sprawls out over the floor in defeat. Over all of this commotion, the setter fails to hear footsteps coming from down the hall. He partially doesn’t care and partially has decided that taking a nap on the cool wooden ground is the best move to cure his dejection from being abandoned by his so-called best friend.

“Oikawa, what are you doing on the floor?”

            The sound of Iwaizumi’s voice cuts through Oikawa’s aura of comical depression and apathy. The brunet scrambles up and rips his blindfold off, sporting a bruised nose from his recent adventure of running straight into plaster.

“Oh! Iwa-chan, I was just getting so tired of waiting on you that I decided to play starfish. Duh,” he states very matter-of-factly, as if it is so completely obvious that he was playing starfish.

            Iwaizumi makes a clicking sound with his tongue and holds out his hand. He hauls Oikawa up and inspects the bridge of his nose, holding his face by pressing his thumb to one cheek and the rest of his fingers on the other.

“You look like a mess,” he finally diagnoses.

“Gee, you don’t say, Hajime,” Oikawa utters, suddenly serious about the situation. “It’s my birthday, and I’ve spent way too much of it doing absolutely nothing. Excuse me if I’m not acting like I’ve had a great day thus far.”

            Iwaizumi runs a hand through his hair and gives an exasperated sigh. His best friend truly is such a little kid sometimes, despite today being his eighteenth birthday. While Oikawa being in a foul mood doesn’t do his surprise justice, he grabs him by the wrist and lugs him into the hallway, out the door, and to Iwaizumi’s car. He all but shoves the other inside it and shuts the door swiftly, almost catching Oikawa’s foot in the process. Meanwhile, the teenage boy in the passenger seat is criticizing him on being so rough with him, knowing that “he’s fragile.” Of course, Aoba Jousai’s ace is ignoring him and is now driving a bit more speedily than Oikawa likes. He squeaks as Iwaizumi slams on the brakes and makes a sharp turn out and onto the parkway.

“Wh-Whoa, Iwa-chan, don’t you want to slow down a little? A mom like you shouldn’t be driving so recklessly,” Oikawa tries to say without having his voice break.

Iwaizumi replies simply, “I’m just trying to get you to your surprise faster.”

            Oikawa spends the duration of the ride clinging desperately to the handle above the window and changing the radio station to soothing songs that will keep him from having a heart attack. The car drive is an eternity to the birthday boy, but Iwaizumi is unfazed, and the digital clock reads 5:18 PM when Iwaizumi finally turns off the engine and holds open Oikawa’s door to step out of. Knees shaking, the taller of the two throws his arm around his best friend’s shoulders for support. Surprisingly, Iwaizumi does not throw him away from him and rests his hand on the other’s hip casually as he leads him to the building before them.

            Upon entering, Oikawa is already pouting. He complains that “it’s dark, and this is a messed up way to kill someone, on his birthday, no less.” He expresses concern that he hoped “Iwaizumi would plan a much more spectacular way of murdering him than just bringing him to a pitch black room in the middle of nowhere.” Midway through making another point of terrible this whole situation is, Oikawa is interrupted by the room springing to life. Lights flicker on to reveal the whole volleyball squad shouting happily to their captain. Matsukawa and Hanamaki run to his side and stuff a cheesy tiara into his hair, grinning that they were fresh out of crowns at the party store. Confetti sprays up into the air, courtesy of the cannons that Kunimi and Kindaichi set up.

            For a few minutes, Oikawa is completely silent. He scans the room with a blank look on his face, from the pile of colorful presents to the endless balloon sea hovering above him to the gorgeous cake sitting on a table. The smiles on everyone’s faces eventually fade.

“Oikawa? Say something,” Iwaizumi urges in confusion and disappointment that his dearest friend isn’t pleased with the setting before him.

Then, Oikawa bursts out laughing, dropping to his knees and holding his sides. He crawls to a wall and props himself against it. His tiara is crooked and is hanging in his face, and while he’s cracking up, tears in his eyes, his friends look on perplexed. Just a moment ago, the guy was acting like he wanted to storm out of there, but now, he’s making a big fit about how much of a joke this is? Iwaizumi thought better of him, but he is being proven wrong with every silly hiccup of Oikawa’s giggle.

“I’m sorry this isn’t good enough for you,” he mutters.

“Hey, Oikawa-san,” Yahaba lectures audaciously, “Iwaizumi-san worked really hard on this.”

Shockingly, Kyoutani agrees with a hum, “You shouldn’t be making fun of it. Even I showed up for this.”

Watari merely gives a sad look of disapproval for Oikawa’s attitude.

            Just when Iwaizumi is about to walk out of the room, Oikawa shoots up from his spot in the corner and spins him around by the shoulder. He crushes his vice captain in a hug, murmuring a string of thanks in his ear. He feels special, he says. He appreciates it all, he says. He’s so glad that he has the best friend in the entire world, he says. He pulls away from Iwaizumi after a few moments, embarrassed that his entire volleyball squad witnessed that intimate little exchange. Oikawa apologizes for behaving so weirdly, just that he was so incredibly happy that he couldn’t help but laugh.

            He enjoys the rest of his evening with his teammates. There are strangely amusing games of pin the black eye on the Kageyama, a piñata with dark eyebrows etched in marker and a Shiratorizawa jersey on its back meant to be Ushiwaka, and just dancing like the crazy teenagers they all are. The party closes with Matsukawa and Hanamaki shooing the other two third years out the door, insisting that they will clean up. Iwaizumi has doubts in his mind, but Oikawa is gleefully calling his gratitude back to his friends over his shoulder.

            Back at Oikawa’s house, they are both sat on the couch. The Seijou captain is recounting his favorite parts of the night, from getting to beat the crap out of the Ushiwaka piñata to stuffing a handful of cake into Iwaizumi’s face.

“And remember when we caught Kunimi grinding on Kindaichi? That was… actually, that was terrible.”

            The ace nods absentmindedly and lowers the volume on the alien TV show that’s playing as background noise. He starts up to get Oikawa and himself some drinks.

“Oh, and when Mattsun accidentally missed the piñata and whacked Makki in the stomach? That was… that was also terrible—Iwa-chan, we don’t have very good friends!”

            Iwaizumi sits down again, setting the drinks on the table. He turns to face Oikawa and gives a genuine smile. He says nothing, but he’s happy, Oikawa can tell. A feeling swells up in Oikawa’s chest. He could freak out about it and make a scene, but it doesn’t seem like the time. It would be nice if Iwa-chan always had that look on his face instead of always looking so mean, Oikawa could say. If he always looked like that, Iwa-chan might be able to get a girlfriend, Oikawa could say. However, Oikawa says none of these things. In the midst of a heated moment, during which Iwaizumi is straightening Oikawa’s tiara, he leans forward and presses a kiss to his best friend’s cheek.

“Thank you, Hajime,” he whispers in his ear, as he has yet to withdraw from Iwaizumi yet. “Today, you made me feel like royalty.”

Iwaizumi gives a sharp snort, followed by a quick peck to Oikawa’s lips.

“Ojou-sama? We haven’t even gone to bed yet.”

“Oh, Iwa-chan! You give me tingles when you take charge like that!”


End file.
